


Stupid, So Much More

by wisia



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, M/M, Super Soldier Serum, War Era
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-27
Updated: 2014-07-27
Packaged: 2018-02-10 14:29:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2028522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wisia/pseuds/wisia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s the serum, Bucky knows. It didn’t just made Steve bigger. It made Steve stupid, so much stupider than before. And Bucky knows it’s going to hurt Steve.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stupid, So Much More

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Fweeble](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fweeble/gifts), [drop-deaddream](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=drop-deaddream).



> Semi-based off this interesting thing about Steve feeling more because of his amygdala (http://drop-deaddream.tumblr.com/post/90830889896/that-one-time-i-saw-chris-evans-back-sweat-and-also). Hoped I managed to catch the gist/sentiment of it at least.
> 
> Forgive the mistakes. Too tired to catch them all right now.  
> Also, character death is really at the end in one line. So yeah.

“That was stupid,” Bucky said furiously once he entered Steve’s tent. “Really stupid. You could’ve been killed!”

They were the same words that have fallen from his lips a hundred thousand times before ever since he met Steve. Because the goddamn idiot was always doing this. Getting beat up in alleyways. Being too smart for his own good and having such a smart mouth. As if Steve’s frail body then didn’t hammer the final nail in his coffin. But this time, Bucky meant it more than the other times. Because Steve was hurt, and his mouth was shut tight as if that would stave off the pain, the screeching ache that would not dissipate till Steve was healed. The serum changed Steve in more ways than one, and Bucky didn’t like it. Abhorred what the serum did.

“There wasn’t any other options,” Steve managed to grit out, a rote reply that slide out like molasses. He was sitting on the bed, one arm cradled around his waist.

“There wasn’t any options.” Bucky repeated flatly. He really wanted to punch Steve, even if it would break his hand. Even if Steve was in pain from getting shot up his ass in that hellfire.

“No.” Steve said simply, as if that was the truth of it. Oh, that did it and even though it hurt like a goddamn SOB Bucky punched him in the shoulder. The one that wasn’t dressed and bleeding.

“”That was you being stupid,” Bucky stressed again as Steve exclaimed in surprise from the blow. “Do you have a death wish? I swear—“

“I’m fine,” Steve interrupted, and his blue eyes were so wide and earnest. As if he really was all right, but he had always been gung ho about most things, even when he was hacking away or so feverish that Bucky didn’t know what he could do except stay up all night watching over him.

“It’ll heal,” Steve said firmly, and Bucky knows it would. Will. But Bucky also knew that Steve wasn’t fine. How could he be?

“I don’t care about that!” Bucky shook his hand as if he could get rid of the sting in the knuckles. He looked down at it, mad that he hit Steve and for everything in the war. Bucky clenched his hand. The skin was broken but the bones were fine, and Bucky sighed releasing the grip. Steve was looking at him, and Bucky knew he felt guilty about Bucky’s hand. It was there in those blue eyes, so easily read and open to anyone who dared to look.

“Buck,” Steve begun.

“It’ll heal,” Bucky said, echoing Steve’s words. He crossed over and slumped down on the cot against Steve. It was comforting and soothing to sit next to Steve, and memories filtered through Bucky’s frustrations of those nights when they sat huddled together for warmth in the dead of night with the wind howling at their crappy apartment.

“Steve,” Bucky said, breaking the silence.

“Yeah?” Steve turned his head and looked down at him. The serum made Steve bigger. Stronger. Better. But it also made Steve more stupid.

“You’ve changed,” and those weren’t the words that Bucky meant to slip out. Still, he couldn’t take it back now, not when those words floated between them, in their mingled breaths in the quiet of the tent.

“You’ve changed too,” Steve said back and slung an arm around Bucky, pulling them closer together. Bucky closed his eyes. Because he did. Steve did, and it wasn’t the same with Steve.

“Yeah, but I mean it. You’re more stupid.”

Bucky had catalogued the differences. Had counted all the ways Steve was still the same after they were rescued. And had counted all the ways Steve wasn’t.

Steve snorted. “How can I? You took the stupid with you.”

Bucky smiled, and it really wasn’t that. Steve, his Steve, had a heart. A good one but…it was more than good now. To the point that it was killing Steve. Steve threw himself into raids and into the field without thought. Bucky would have strangled him when he heard from Peggy that Steve jumped onto a dummy grenade in basic if Peggy didn’t laugh so charmingly and made Steve blush. And everything that Steve was before—it was amplified now.

“Look at you,” Bucky said. “You’re so happy.”

And Steve was grinning, so wide and beautiful it made Bucky’s heart catch in its rhythm. Steve shrugged, and Bucky knew that Steve didn’t know. Didn’t realize that he was more than before in the worse ways possible. Steve had always had feelings. Sympathy for others in ways that Bucky was too guarded for.

“I guess I just am. I’m glad you’re with me.” Steve pressed closer to Bucky, the arm around Bucky’s shoulder curling him in tightly against Steve. And Bucky had to say something because it was war.

“No.” Bucky shook his head. “You’re more easy to make happy.”

“I’m simple,” Steve said. “You know that.”

“It’s…,” and Bucky struggled to explain. How Steve laughed so hard at one of Dum-Dum’s jokes, harder than he should. How Steve cried at a picture they managed to watch on leave when he never cried so easily before. How Steve’s joy in getting extra chocolate in his ration (because all the others knew he needed the food) was more than it should be and kept him high for weeks. It wasn’t anything anyone else would notice, but Bucky did. Years by Steve’s side, and Bucky knew that there was something different, even if it was just the smallest thing ever.

Everything was more, and Bucky knows it is the serum. He just doesn’t know how or why. And it was going to get Steve killed.

“I worry,” Bucky said instead because Steve’s not going to get it and may never get it. It’s hard to notice the change when it’s yourself that’s changed.

“I worry too,” Steve said softly, and Bucky knows he’s thinking about the war, about all the soldiers dead, and his duty to keep his men as safe as he can.

“You worry too much,” Bucky said instead of “you feel too much” even though that was the truth. He poked Steve on the chest, over Steve’s heart. Then, he smoothed out his palm over it and feels Steve’s heartbeat, steady and calm. The serum did good for that at least.

“Just don’t forget about yourself. You get too caught up in that head of yours.”

“I won’t,” Steve said, and it only reassures Bucky minutely. Because Steve’s not going to be able to get out of his head, not when he’s out fighting for justice and breaking his heart wide open for anyone who needs it. Not when Steve’s going to help even if it damns himself.

“Better not. Don’t be stupid,” and Bucky closed his eyes, hoping that Steve really would be all right. That Steve wouldn’t feel too much.

"How can I?" Steve asked, tucking them down to lay on their sides. 

And when Bucky falls from that train later, all he can think is Steve’s going to hurt more and that he really took the stupid with him.


End file.
